


from his lips came forth the world

by newsbians



Series: tethered hearts with troubled souls [1]
Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: M/M, don't hate me lol, um a superhero au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-16
Updated: 2019-04-16
Packaged: 2020-01-14 22:12:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18485425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newsbians/pseuds/newsbians
Summary: There's nothing like bringing a throwing knife to a lightning fight.





	from his lips came forth the world

The lightning singed his hair as Jack clenched his fists, desperately trying to remember exactly what the insulation staff Spot built had looked like. Override was drawing closer and he had no time to waste, so he went over the important details in his mind. _ Blue knobs at either end. Gray in the middle. The size of his wingspan. _ Deciding that was enough information, (and feeling the electricity crackle through the air) Jack shut his eyes and whispered “Materialize.” The weight of the staff suddenly appeared in his hands, and he laughed in relief for a second before hearing a voice behind him. 

 

“That tiny thing?” Override cackled. “You couldn’t stop a triple A battery with that.” Jack stared at the man in front of him, his heart pounding in his chest. Green lightning snapped and popped all around him, suspending him high in the air. Sparks flew from his fingers as he taunted Jack about his (admittedly tiny now that it was in comparison to Override’s bolts) staff. “You know, I would’ve expected more from the infamous Dr. Creation.” The villain sneered. Hearing his name drenched in sarcasm made Jack’s blood boil, so he spun the staff around a few times for good measure. 

 

“Why don’t you come down here and see how it works for yourself?” Jack called, yelling over the thunder that was coming from the quickly forming clouds ahead. He knew that he would have to carry out the plan soon, or else his opponent would get too strong too quickly and Jack would be powerless. Override sneered and came closer to the ground, shooting his first bolt at Jack. It was a blessing that Race had made him train for so long with the damn staff, even though Jack hadn’t been sure if he was going to use it. Spinning quickly, it (successfully! He would have to rejoice with Spot later.) deflected the lightning and sent the bolt shooting off into the distance. He winced, hoping everybody had been in their right mind and fled the area already. This didn’t deter Override, however, and the man kept shooting lighting as Jack twirled the stick around and kept the deadly electricity away from him. He could no longer see anything but green, green light keeping him in one place while Override kept laughing and getting closer. This added intensity to his strikes and made Jack worry that he wouldn’t be able to hold out for very much longer. 

 

He was tired. The villain was not. It was clear who would win. 

 

With one final spin, the staff cleared away bolt after bolt of electricity until everything was still. Override has lowered himself to the ground and he was walking slowly towards Jack. His hand crackled with incredible light that terrified him to his very core, but he knew that the villain would torture him for a few seconds to draw out the anticipation. A last ditch attempt came to his mind, so he put his hands behind his back and with his best ventriloquist skills, whispered “Materialize.”

 

The throwing knife was cool in his palm, just the perfect size to land in Override’s heart and finally cease the beating. His reign of stupid petty crime would finally be over. Jack watched as the man drew closer, closer until they were inches apart. “It’ll be so good to finally watch you burn,” he said, his voice low. The lighting popped and sizzled as he raised his hand and-

 

His scream pierced the night as Jack ran as fast as he could in the opposite direction.  _ Blue paint. Four wheels. Dented passenger door. _ His Honda Accord landed in the street right next to him and he lept in, willing the car to start as quickly as possible. There was no ominus green light illuminating the path behind him to his great relief, so he muttered “That bitch better be dead once and for all,” and peeled off into the night. 

 

&&&

 

Of course Override had survived. And of course he chose to rob the gas station on 82nd and West right when Jack was sitting down to work on a group project. As soon as he turned on the TV for some background noise, the news showed security footage of Override smashing a glass door and demanding the money out of the register. “Uh… Race?” Jack called, eyes glued to the screen. The reporter was saying that he wasn’t holding anyone hostage and no one was injured, but he had stolen a fairly hefty profit. Override was moving down 82nd and didn’t look like he was going to stop. His roommate stomped into the living room but stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the commotion. 

 

“I thought you stabbed him!” Race whined, sinking onto the couch. 

 

A tired laugh came from Jack, who was already hopping out of his pants. “Yeah. Me too.” His shirt came off as well by the time he reached his bedroom, and he pressed hard on the back of his closet wall. “Call Spot for me, yeah?” He called as he reached for his suit. Dark blue, form fitting, with a rainbow trail going up the side. Technically he had lost a bet to Spot that gave the bastard full creative integrity, but after so many years, Jack didn’t mind the suit. It was apart of his brand. (It was also waterproof, thanks to the same bastard.) 

 

Race had already pulled out his mini workstation from under the couch, tapping on the mic. “Copy?” He said, his voice echoing around in Jack’s skull. Jack nodded wincing, as he turned the volume down a bit. 

 

“Do me a favor and let me know if anyone from the group chat ‘Virginia Woolfe and Feminism’ texts, okay? I’m supposed to be writing my part of the assignment tonight.” Jack says as he swings open the door. A very grumpy looking Spot stood in the doorway, holding a cup of coffee and still in pajama bottoms. 

 

Passing by the superhero, Spot kissed the top of Race’s head. “I have an eight am tomorrow, so make it quick Kelly.” Jack winked and ran from the door as fast as he could, materializing out into the front of the building. A handy trick, but could only take him so far. He could usually go only about 200 feet without making himself incredibly tired so he saved it for the most dire of circumstances. Or to get him to the back alleyway without being spotted, which only happened to be a handy 137 feet from his front door. From then he materialized his car and sped down the alley, ready to catch Override. (Again.) 

 

&&&

 

“I thought I killed you!” Jack called out to the mass of sparking green cloud. The boy floating in front of it laughed, laughed so hard the cloud shook with him. 

 

He started to descend from the sky. “Your aim is as lousy as your skill,  _ Doctor _ ,” Override sneered. 

 

Jack tightened his fists around the staff and kept the image of a tranquilizing gun in his mind, just incase it would become handy. “And your laugh is as cheesy as you suit, Lightning Boy.” He knew that this irritated the villian to no end, and would aggregate his powers. Hopefully he could get him so riled up that Override grew tired and just went home. Or maybe he’d just quit overall.  _ Here’s to wishful thinking,  _ he thought bitterly. “Are you scared of my new staff? I’ve upgraded since I took you down last.” 

 

“I’m never scared of a staff.” He said haughtily. 

 

Jack laughed. “Sounds a little gay.” He joked, mainly to himself, but the other boy had heard. He watched the blush spread across Override’s cheeks. It’d be cute if it wasn’t almost scary, the creeping red electrified by the lightning. 

 

Override rubbed at his neck for a second before composing himself. “Yes, well last time you got me with a knife, so I’m just not very impressed with your… staff.” 

 

Just in time to hear their laughter and a small “Burn!” from Spot, Race turned his mic on. “Hey you have a text from a ‘David’ in the chat saying his part’s also gonna be a little late. But that was like thirty nine minutes ago.” 

 

“Does it look like the time?” Jack hissed into the mic. 

 

Race scoffed into the mic. “Bro, he just said you have a small dick. It was the  _ perfect _ time.” 

 

Override crossed his arms, the energy in the air sizzling around him. It created a halo of sorts, glowing green. If he wasn’t wearing a mask and fireproof pants, he could look downright angelic. “If you’re done talking, we could fight.” 

 

“Listen dude,” Jack sighed. “I have to go work on school stuff. I’m sure you’re a very busy man when you’re not off being a terrible villain. Can’t you just promise to not do anything for like a week?” He was half joking, but at the same time he wasn’t. He was tired of fighting Override. He was tired of only getting two hours of sleep. He was tired of having constant paranoia that one day he wouldn’t be there to save the day. 

 

The exhaustion in his voice was overtly evident. Override’s face softened for a moment. “I’m-” His shoulders slumped. In that second, he looked like a normal person, not a crazy supervillain, just a boy. “I have school stuff to do too. I can give you one week. That’s all.” Straightening his spine, Override stuck out his hand. 

 

With Race screaming in his ear, ( _ What are you doing?! He tried to kill you! He’s evil! _ ) not really sure of what he was doing, Jack reached out and shook his hand. A small electric current ran through him as they made eye contact for a split second, and Override looked away quickly. 

 

As Jack drove home, one image was imprinted in his mind; the small stain of blush inching up the back of his neck as Override turned to walk away. 

 

&&&

 

Flinging his backpack to the ground, Jack sat down in a chair next to a boy with a bright green pen in hand and a note page that was already half full. “I’m so sorry, y’all,” he explained. “My car wouldn’t start.” Everyone else in the group gave condescending reassurance and returned to their discussion. The boy ( _ Nick? John? David? _ ) leaned over and patted him on the arm. 

 

“Don’t worry, all they’ve managed to do was suggest that Woolfe was a lesbian.” He whispered. 

 

Jack chuckled. “She  _ was _ one of the first to write in a queer critical perspective.” 

 

“Exactly!” The boy said excitedly. “Plus, all of the great lesbian lit that came out her writings, like-” 

 

“Chloe Plus Olivia!” They both finished. The boy smiled, looking almost taken aback. “You’re Jack, right?” He questioned. Jack nodded fervently. “David. But you can call me Davey, if you’d like.” 

 

“Davey.” Jack said, loving how easily the name slid off of his tongue. 

 

The boy smiled brightly, and it seemed like the air around him was buzzing with energy. Jack’s breath caught in his throat, if only for a moment, but it was long enough to let him know one thing: There was something incredibly special about Davey. 

 

&&&

 

Override had, surprisingly, kept his promise. One week of no crime, no harassing of box office movie theater employees, gas station attendants, hostess/hosts, or fast food workers. Then Jack was awoken from his sleep to Race shouting in his face, “Override! Heading toward the school! Towards us!” 

 

Up in an instant, Jack began putting his suit on and grabbing all of his tools. The second he zipped up he was gone in a flash, leaving Race to hurriedly run to the living room and set up all of his equipment. He could rob little shops and scare people into doing his bidding, but Jack would be damned if Override burned down his dorm building. Or the art studio. If he became suddenly homeLess and degree-Less because of this green sparks punk, he’d become much more deadly with a throwing knife. He’d make sure it stuck in the right place. 

 

The man was stalking toward the clump of buildings that held the offices when Jack saw him. He was glowing green, pulsating with anger, when he unlocked the front door. (He just zapped at the handle and the door flew open. Jack wasn’t sure how that worked, exactly.) He followed him inside quietly until they stopped at the Dean of Finances’ door. Making a crackling ball of light, Override aimed and then-

 

“Wait!” Jack called out. Surprised by the voice, Override turned at the sound and threw the electricity over Jack’s left ear. He could smell the singed hair and hear Race lecturing him on the danger he just put himself in. “What are you doing?” Jack asked, curiously. 

 

Override rolled his eyes. “Don’t you have better things to do than follow me around, Doctor?” 

 

“Don’t you have better things to do than” gesturing wildly at the door, “Break into the office in a college?” Jack pursed his lips for a second. “Or do you go here?” He wondered out loud. 

 

Override scoffed, seemingly offended by this. “I’m not a- a- college student!” He sputtered. 

 

Jack nodded. “Sounds like something a college student would say.” The air around Override seized with energy, swirling and fizzing. Good. If he kept up, he might tire him out again. Or talk him out of breaking into the financial director’s room. 

 

As he tried to explain himself, Jack started forming the tranquilizer gun in his head.  _ Silver. Pointy end. Reddish clear vials. _ Halfway through whispering the magic word, Override roared in anger. “ _ No _ !” Electricity shot through the air and hit Jack in the shoulder. He felt himself fly through the air and land back on a filing cabinet, the whole thing coming down in a flurry of paper and crashing metal. Immediately knowing that something was wrong, Race began speaking directions through the earpiece. The thunder of Override’s clouds were booming. The pain in Jack’s arm was overwhelming. The darkness crossing over his mind was welcomed with open arms. 

 

When Jack awoke, he was alone, cold, and the Dean of Finances’ office was ransacked. The police report would later detail a missing file, belonging to a freshman named Les Jacobs. 

 

&&&

 

He had never seen him before, but now that Jack Kelly knew Davey Jacobs, he was  _ everywhere _ . In the third row of his Gender and Politics lecture, behind the counter at the local ice cream shop, in the university library shelving books, riding bikes with a girl with a shock of red hair streaming behind her. Normally it wouldn’t be big deal, but Davey also made it a point to talk to him whenever possible. 

 

The first time they ran into each other (outside of that terrible group project) was midway through a study session at Racetrack Sweets with Race. He liked to joke that the shop was named after him, or liked to impress people by lying and saying his grandfather opened up the place. In reality it was just a sweet coincidence that came with cheap ice cream in interesting flavors. Jack was halfway through a Fireball Fury (Redhots chopped into a french vanilla bean. Much better than it sounded.) when Davey strolled into the store, tying a bright blue apron around his waist. Looking quickly away to avoid any awkward conversation, he focused on the history textbook in front of him. 

 

“Jack!” A bright voice called out behind him. He’d been spotted. 

 

Jack looked up with a smile on his face, awkwardly closing the book and scooting his chair around. “Hiya, Davey.” He waved. 

 

Davey pulled out an ice cream paddle and went to work. “How’s your essay going?” He questioned, while his hands were busy scraping cream around the frozen tabletop. They had an essay due in week detailing the life of a person who had changed the course of literature not set in America. Jack had chosen Carol Ann Duffy, for obvious reasons. Mrs. Midas was the first poem to ever make him truly feel something. 

 

Scratching the back of his neck, he blushed. “Honestly, I haven’t started. I’ve got too much on my plate with ARTH 321. How about you?” 

 

“ARTH 321?”

 

“It’s Greek Art and Mythology with Daniels. I like it a lot, but it’s a ton of coursework.” Davey made a sympathetic face, and grabbed a container that looked like it had… dried flowers inside?  _ What on earth was he making? _

 

As he chopped the flowers into the ice cream, Davey started to ramble. “Funny that you bring up the Greek, because I’m doing my essay on Athena. And I know we weren’t really supposed to use a mythological figure, but you really can’t argue any other way that she hasn’t changed at least the idea of literature. As the goddess of wisdom, she allowed for women to be scholars and students in the Greek society, because men believed that if they didn’t let these girls learn, they would tick her off and she’d burn all of their books or something. With that summary, you can probably tell I haven’t started either. My brother’s been working me up too much lately to get anything else done.” 

 

Jack tried to hide his smile, coy and bemused. This boy could probably talk for hours on end if someone let him. “What’s the matter with your brother?” He questioned. 

 

“He’s a freshman here and he’s not taking school very seriously, I guess you could say.” Davey got quieter, still adding ingredients to the ice cream with practiced skill. “Lost all of his scholarship money and not really trying to make ends meet.” 

 

“Oh,” Jack muttered. “Sorry.” 

 

For a moment, Davey looked lost in thought as he finished depositing the ice cream into a bowl. Shaking his head (as if that would clear the problems out) he walked out from behind the counter. “A problem for a different time. Right now, I’d like you to try this,” and he placed the bowl in front of Jack. 

 

Before Jack could question it, Davey was talking again. “On the house. It’s my own creation, Rosewater and Lemon Cream. Probably doesn’t sound that appetizing, but it’s really good, I promise.” Jack cautiously put a spoonful in his mouth but soon began eating it as fast as he could without a brain freeze. 

 

“This is delicious!” He said in between mouthfuls.   

 

Davey tried to hide his smile, sweet and slightly prideful. 

 

&&&

 

The rest of the week was fairly peaceful, and Jack bought a bottle of rosewater on Amazon. They said it was for skincare, but it reminded Jack of something a bit sweeter. 

 

Until Thursday night, when a small fire broke out behind a Del Taco and witnesses saw a ‘cloud of light.’ The register was emptied out and there was a burn trail that went on for a mile and a half. Dr. Creation was back in business. 

 

Jack was tiptoeing behind buildings, trying not to draw any attention towards himself, following the boy. He was muttering to himself, angry, frustrated, throwing bolts of lighting at the ground that would simply cause a dramatic spark. His energy was all off. He wasn’t a composed villain committing well-organized crime. Override carried an edge of desperation on his back as he continued walking.

 

Eventually, the villain stopped in the middle of an alleyway and slid down against the brick wall. Jack paused for a second, feeling sympathy for the man. This moment seemed too private to intrude upon, even if it was on someone who just robbed a 24 hour fast food chain. From the quiet trail he was making, Jack could hear the quiet sobs. 

 

_ White box, white paper, blue writing. _ “Materialize.” 

 

“Care for a tissue?” Jack held out the box. 

 

In a flash, Override was standing up. The air crackled around him and sparked out greens and yellows. “What are you doing here?” His voice sounded thin and watery. Exactly what you would expect from someone sitting in a New York City alleyway, audibly sobbing. 

 

Jack threw the box at his feet, not wanting to get hit. “Not here to fight today. I promise.” The energy lessened as the man warily eyed the tissues and slowly bent down to grab them. He quickly spun around and blew his nose, wiped at his eyes, and straightened back up.  _ This is my chance, _ Jack thought. _ Now or never.  _

 

A swift kick in the back of his knees shot him to the floor, and Jack had him pinned before he could shoot any lightning. He spat at Jack, desperately trying to fight out of the embrace, but Jack jabbed at his chin in return. Override twisted over and almost flipped Jack onto his back, but then was overpowered by the flash of a dull, silver blade. 

 

“I don’t want to hurt you, man. I just want you to stop.” Jack pleaded, holding the knife with a shaking hand. He had never killed anyone. He was a hero, for God’s sake. Heroes did not kill people. 

 

Override bared his teeth, but his arms went limp under Jack’s grasp and the finality of the situation was etched on his face. Jack had finally won. 

 

“Now,” Jack said smugly. “Who the hell are you?” He used the hilt of the blade to hike up the mask covering the boy’s eyes and- 

 

Oh. 

 

“Davey?” 

 

Override’s eyes went wide with fear. “How do you know me?” He asked, voice thick with tears again. He started to struggle against Jack’s bonds again when Jack whipped off his own mask in response. 

 

“Dave! Dave, it’s- it’s me.” The mask was flung to the side, and with it, his voice modulator. He was suddenly just Jack Kelly wearing an awful lot of spandex. He suddenly felt incredibly ridiculous. Then he remembered exactly what situation he was in. “What the hell, man!” Jack roared, holding the blade of his knife to Davey’s throat. “You’ve almost killed me like, a dozen times! You dropped me in a lake! I have scars that’ll never heal! You almost  _ killed _ me!  _ I almost died- _ ” 

 

“I know!” Davey yelled back. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “If I had known it was you, I would’ve never-” 

 

Jack cackled maniacally. “What! Never would’ve left me to die in our goddamn Finance offices? Never would have  _ shot at me with lightning? _ ” 

 

“You think I was just doing this for fun?  _ That I enjoy this? _ ” His voice didn’t sound that far off from crying again. 

 

Jack sat back on his heels and pushed his shoulders down again, still keeping Davey pinned to the floor. “Then explain.” 

 

Davey looked at a loss for words, just for a moment. He hadn’t been expecting a show of grace from the boy whom he had almost murdered on multiple occasions. “Well,” he started cautiously. “I’ve been able to do all of  _ this _ since I was thirteen. It was just a party trick until a few years ago when I saw that I could probably do something more than shock people to make their hair stand up. My sister helped me make a suit that would burst into flames everytime I put it on, and I went around the city stopping petty crimes and so have you. Back then they nicknamed me Static Electric.” Static Electric sounded oddly familiar to Jack. He was a big deal when Jack was first figuring out his powers. “But my sophomore year here, someone shot at me. I hurt my leg really badly and my sister begged me to stop, so I did. It was only a few months ago that I started up again. I renamed myself Override, because that always sounded cooler in my head.” 

 

Jack took a moment to process everything. Static Electric was a tall man who went around zapping at burglars stealing old ladies’ purses, not carrying a cloud of electricity to the nearest register and demanding its contents. There was even a cry for help to Static when Override first started to take his power. The heartbreak was so overwhelming when no one came to the rescue, Jack knew he had to do something. 

 

“What happened to you?” Sadness hampered his tone, all of the anger diminished. 

 

Davey looked ashamed and turned his head toward the brick wall next to him. “My brother lost all of his scholarships. My parents both work two jobs. My sister’s in graduate school. One of us would have to drop out, and it sure as hell wasn’t going to be me.” His chest heaved. “I did what I had to do.” 

 

_ Metal cuffs. Green wiring. No room for escape. _ “Materialize.” 

 

“Put your hands behind your back,” Jack said tiredly. The game was over. He had finally won. 

 

&&&

 

Jack burst through the dorm room door, making Race drop his cup of coffee. “What the fu-” He stopped mid sentence, burning liquid dripping down his leg. 

 

Davey stood tall in their room, bits of electricity running up and down his body. The handcuffs around his wrists had a bright green glow that cast an ominous shadow onto Jack, who was holding the boy still. “This is Davey Jacobs, but you know him as Override. He’s got some explaining to do.” 

**Author's Note:**

> hey guys sorry for making it not a happy ending. anyways les says #dumbassrights and so does davey


End file.
